


The Brain

by rathrunpredictabl



Series: Miscellenous Shatterdome Moments [4]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Platonic Relationships, The Rules, author is ignorant of biology and apologises profusely in advance, the brain - Freeform, the injustice of it liking him better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathrunpredictabl/pseuds/rathrunpredictabl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet inspired by pickleplum's observation that the brain segment  is actually way over the line and completely on Hermann's side of the lab. I was wondering how it got there, and this happened.</p><hr/><p>Gottlieb has stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride, having noticed the new addition to his side of the room immediately. Newt senses the initial intense wave of shock, and finds himself standing up and hurrying around the desk. 'I know I know I know but listen it actually <i>doesn't</i> violate the rules, okay Hermann, you were very clear about which bits of kaiju you don't appreciate on your side, and I have to remind you that “neural tissue” isn't actually on that list.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pickleplum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/gifts).



> Inspired by pickleplum's observation on the distribution of Large Kaiju Bits in the lab:
> 
> http://pickle-plum.tumblr.com/post/67666053598/waaaaaitaminute-there-are-large-kaiju-bits-on

'No no no no no no AAAGH!'

Newt's head collides with the tank side with a small thud as he stretches his arms around the base, trying to reach both sides of the life support controls simultaneously. 'Ow... Okay baby, okay, apparently thirty-three degrees C is too cold for you, it's okay, I'm just going to warm it up a tiny little bit in there for you, please please please euuuugh don't die please...'

Mentally, he's making notes. So it turns out the secondary brain cavity actually has a higher temperature than say the stomach for example, which is doing fine in its little tank over on the other side of the room at a mere 305 Kelvin of acidic jelly and recycled oxygenated kaiju blood and electrodes carrying a regular seven amps of current – it's even gurgling to itself which is oddly reassuring, though it freaks Hermann out, and obviously the brain's oxygen requirements are going to be higher than a stomach, even if it is only secondary, which would explain the higher temp, but how in the hell is he going to be able to get any kind of reliable electromagnetic reading off it while the current is still on, other than very delicately edging it into suspended animation? Okay so maybe just heading straight for the thermostat on the hunch from the other specimens wasn't really the best move, but hey at least he knows it definitely doesn't like being as cold as the stomach (which one was this anyway? Mutavore? (Who comes up with these names dude?)), and on the plus side it is still alive. Just. 

He inches one of the dials up by point-seven and the other by point-two and springs back up to check the computer attached to the tank. He slaps the trackerpad to get rid of the bubble screensaver and grips the screen as he checks the readings. 

Oh. Okay. Shit. Now they're shooting up through the safe zone and out the other side. 'Noooooo no no no...'

Newt dances back to the tank and tweaks the left-hand dial up by point-three, leaps back to the computer, jumps around to the other side of the tank and turns the right-hand dial up by point-one, scrambles back around to the computer, swears, makes a laborious adjustment to the heating programme, kicks the bottom of the desk, and presses a hand to the side of the tank.

There's a quiet beep from the laptop.

Newt lurches across to the screen again and sighs with his whole body. Stabilised, at last. 'Ohhh thank you thank you, I'm sorry, I'll never do that again.' Too damn close. He flares back to the brain and stares at it through the greenish goop it's swimming in. He catches sight of his reflection as he scrubs his hair with one hand, with the other on his hip. Right. 'Okay brain. How am I going to get you to lie down quietly and not die while I attach some electrodes without electrocuting myself, for the second time, to find out what's going on in there... The second time...' 

He snaps his fingers. A second thermostat in parallel, that'd give him a little extra finesse over the Kelvin. The slight snag with this idea is that the voltage is too low to support just jacking another one in, and he's already totally maxed out the extension leads and boards on his side of the lab. The last time he tried to plug in another appliance (his 3DS) he blew a fuse and took out the whole lab. Hermann hadn't spoken a word to him for two days afterwards.

But there is an empty plug socket sitting in the wall not five feet away, forgotten, staring balefully at him from behind the blackboard. It would be tricky but not impossible to shift the whole she'bang over to that tragically empty socket and give the little guy something useful to do. 

The snag with _this_ idea is that it puts the brain squarely, cubely, even logarithmically, on the _other_ side of the lab. 

But hey. Newt tips his head as he considers. Hermann might appreciate a brain for company. 

He begins trying to guess at the snark that would likely result from this movement as he digs out an industrial-size galvanic cell battery to use as a life-support pack during the move. For his part he can already foresee countless 'Do you mind?' puns, at least one Wizard of Oz song and a whole host of zombie jokes waiting to happen. He's reasonably confident that Hermann won't actually mind (hah hah), not really, not when the alternative is blowing the circuit again, or dealing with Newt's sulk when it turns out the brain segment has caught a cold and died overnight.

Thank god the PPDC guys had left the wheels on the tank. Newt finally gets the equipment converted to a mobile power source, and after double-checking the vitals, inches the tank across the floor. One of the wheels sticks and it screeches as it crosses the line. Newt decides to keep the battery pack close at hand just in case Gottlieb _does_ pitch a hissy fit and is adamant that the brain be removed. He probably won't. Probably.

With the equipment plugged into the mains on the other side and the second thermostat in place he's able to fine-tune the temperature and ease the brain into suspended animation, clamber up on a chair and plunge his arms into the tank to attach the electrodes, jump down, wipe off his hands, recover the temperature with the perfect amount of control, and do a strange little dance when his jury-rigged EEG judders into life. 

He works happily for a further two hours, as dawn edges over the rim of the ocean, and calls a greeting to Hermann when he appears around six A.M. without looking up from his microscope. 'Good morning starshine!'

'Good mor--'

Gottlieb has stopped mid-sentence and mid-stride, having noticed the new addition to his side of the room immediately. Newt senses the initial intense wave of shock, and finds himself standing up and hurrying around the desk. 'I know I know I know but listen it actually _doesn't_ violate the rules, okay Hermann, you were very clear about which bits of kaiju you don't appreciate on your side, and I have to remind you that “neural tissue” isn't actually on that list.'

'How long is it going to be there?'

'Hmn? Oh I uh, I don't actually know, I can't give you an answer, I only just managed to get the EEG running about two hours ago – that's why I had to move it over in the first place you know because I got no sockets left over here and it's like hypersensitive to fluctuations in temperature, so to get it down to hypothermia while I stuck the electrodes on was a royal pain in the ass, you know, and--'

Hermann holds up his free hand. He still looks tired, though Newt suspects if they both slept for a week they'd still be sleep-deprived. 'Yes yes all right, I understand, it's necessary for your research. But--'

There's a small “thunk” noise from behind the blackboard.

Both researchers freeze. 'Did you hear that?' hisses Newt, elated. He turns his back on Hermann and creeps around the side of the blackboard. The brain is throbbing gently in time with the electrical current and simulated cardiovascular system. 

'Newton,' begins Hermann, in that world-weary tone he uses when trying to coax him back to work, and Newt is about to tell him to shut up when the brain does it again. There's another “thunk” noise, and this time Newt is close enough and pointing in the correct direction to watch one of the nervous stems actually lift and tap at the side of the tank. 

'Oh my god... Oh my god! Hermann, it _likes_ you!'

Gottlieb has come over to look despite himself, but his face curls in contempt. 'Don't be ridiculous, it's a dissected clump of genetic material, even if it is mostly neural tissue; there's no possible way--'

Incredibly, the brain cuts him off. “Thunk.”

'Oh my god,' says Newt again. 'Why doesn't it like _me_?'

'You did give it hypothermia, reanimate it and subsequently force an EEG on it,' Hermann points out, still staring at the tank. 

Newt looks between them. 'Look, ahh... Is this going to be a problem? Because if it really is, you know, I really don't want to have to but I could find some way to reorganise my cables to get it back over the other--'

Hermann turns on his good leg. 'Hmph. At least you had the presence of mind to put it behind the blackboard.'

Newt snorts. 'Presence of mind..!'

'… Newton, if I have to start a pun jar and charge you one coffee token for every terrible wordplay you come up with on the subject, I will.'

'I wouldn't mind,' says Newt innocently.

'You are crossing the line betw--,' begins Hermann, but Newt's second snorkle of laughter turns his sentence into a scowl that could light touchpaper, made extra glowering by the fact that he belatedly recognises his own awful play on words.

“Thunk.”

'You keep out of this,' spits Gottlieb, and huffs off to his desk.


End file.
